


The Feeling's Plain to Me

by SiriuslyThatBitch



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Alternate Universe- no war, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Hogwarts, Light Angst, Love Letters, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 18:13:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29336604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SiriuslyThatBitch/pseuds/SiriuslyThatBitch
Summary: Valentine's Day is for silly little girls, and apparently one frustratingly handsome Slytherin.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Blaise Zabini
Comments: 19
Kudos: 24
Collections: Hermione's Nook Lovebirds Fest





	The Feeling's Plain to Me

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to my extraordinary Beta RoonilWazlibMalfoy. You are simply the best!
> 
> Written for Hermione's Nook Lovebird Fest 2021
> 
> \- Padfoot🐾

# 

#  **February 1998**

Friday, the Thirteenth of February, had gone surprisingly well so far. All of Hogwarts was already abuzz for the Hogsmeade weekend, and who would go with whom. Well, most of Hogwarts. 

Hermione had long ago stopped expecting anyone to ask her to such things. The Yule Ball had been the first and only romantic-leaning event she’d been asked to, and while Viktor had been sweet, he’d been much too old for her. The Slug Club party she’d asked Cormac herself, and that particular misguided plan would forever live in her nightmares. No, Hermione was decidedly not looking forward to the colored hearts, chocolates, and oddly enough, possible proposals the other seventh year girls were anticipating. 

It was all a rather silly holiday really. Why should she even want to be a part of something so cliché? That’s what she firmly told herself as she entered the Transfiguration classroom alongside Harry. They’d been a bit later than usual coming into the room, and Hermione was rather annoyed to notice a few Slytherins occupying their usual table. 

She stared daggers into the back of Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini’s heads. Everyone knew she preferred to sit in the front, and thus Harry and Ron had always begrudgingly joined her. Letting out a disgruntled huff, she dropped her books on the table behind them with a thunderous thunk. Out of the corner of her eye she swore she saw a smirk on Zabini’s face. Just as she went to call the smarmy git out on it, the door at the front of the classroom opened. 

“Welcome class,” Professor McGonagall said, a grin on her face. “I know it’s Friday, and that you all may have your minds elsewhere. Typically I’d have you working on your N.E.W.T. material, but,” Hermione grit her teeth as she waited for the woman to finish. “I thought in light of Valentine’s Day, perhaps we ought to take a break of sorts.” 

Her accent was thicker as she smiled down at her pupils. No, not McGonagall too. Class time was meant to be her refuge from all this nonsense. Hermione held out hope for a moment that perhaps it was some complex jewelry transfiguration spell. Something that could actually be of practical use later in her life. Her head of house twirled her wand in an elegant arc and a flock of love birds flew until one was perched before each student. The frustrated groan left her throat of its own volition. The broad shoulders of the boy in front of her appeared to shake slightly in response. Bloody Slytherins, she thought as the Professor continued. 

“Today we’ll be turning these love birds into notes for your special someone. It’s a simple bit of magic, and who knows, you all may even discover your true love.” She winked in an inordinately jovial way. 

Someone, just kill her now. This was meant to be her solace from all this romance nonsense. Her frustrated huff was much louder than intended and the movement of the boy in front of her was unmistakable as stifled laughter. The arsehole thought she was funny, did he? Her eyes zeroed in on the back of his head and the deep black waves of his hair, doing her best to communicate her displeasure with him through it. Even the continuation of her Professors’ instructions wasn’t enough to tear her gaze from the boy.

“The incantation is very simple. Point your wand directly at the bird and say 'Cor Meum Revelare.'” Her thick Scottish brogue echoed off the stone walls as the bird’s kaleidoscopic coloring turned into a rather plain looking envelope. The wax closure was a simple love heart, and the overly romanticized notion of it all had her nearly retching in her mouth. “Alright class, I’ll leave you to it.” A wide smile spread across the pale woman’s face, her cheeks flushed a rose pink. 

Hermione’s gaze was pulled from the Slytherin only when Harry elbowed her in the side. 

“You alright there, Hermione?” He asked, raising one of his ink black eyebrows. His green eyes sparkled with an amusement Hermione couldn’t place, but was sure she wouldn’t like. 

“Fine. Why?” She asked, pushing her hair over one shoulder, eyes locking on her best friend.

“You just seemed a bit… distracted.” Harry smirked at her, his eyes just so subtly flicked forward, toward the Slytherin she had just been staring down. She scoffed in response, deciding that whatever he was suggesting didn’t even warrant a response. 

“Please, we could all do this in our sleep.” Grasping her wand that had been set beside her now useless parchment and quill, she looked at the bird before her. “Cor Meum Revelare.” The words came out in a lazy drawl, uncomfortably reminiscent of their sullen potions professor. In spite of her clear lack of enthusiasm, the spell worked perfectly. 

An eggshell colored envelope landed on her desk where the bird had been perched. The front of the envelope was face down, and she made no move to pick it up and study it further. Despite her favourite professor’s words, she highly doubted the ability of any spell to identify a love match for her. 

“Aren’t you interested to see who it’s addressed to?” Harry said, moving to reach for the envelope. She was quick to slap his russet colored hand before his fingers managed to close around the letter. 

“No, and you shouldn’t be either.” The response and slap had her best friend looking a bit like a scolded child. Well, it served him right. He had no right to look at her love letter, even if it was a complete hoax. Harry’s bird was still, well, a bird, so she decided to use it as a distraction. “Besides, you haven’t even gotten yours yet.” The boy’s eyes narrowed for a moment in thought. 

“You think this is all just a laugh, yeah?” He asked, drumming his fingers against the desk in the way that only spelled trouble. Being his friend for nearly seven years had given her plenty of time to know all his little quirks. Tapping fingers usually meant Harry was concocting some hairbrained scheme that she’d completely detest but eventually relent to being a part of. 

“Yes, Harry. I do.” Hermione pressed her lips in a hard line. 

“Well then, why don’t we both look at each other’s letter? It’s not as if it matters?” 

“What’s the point?” she asked quickly. Honestly, Hermione really did think the whole task ridiculous, but she was also slightly paranoid about it all. Not that she’d ever tell him that. 

“Come on. It doesn’t mean anything, and maybe we’ll get someone really hilarious.” He looked up at her through his eyelashes with a smile that Hermione knew would only cause her grief. 

“Fine.” She grumbled, motioning to the bird in front of him. 

“Cor Meum Revelare!” Harry said with much more enthusiasm. His envelope was significantly paler than Hermione’s with a scarlet heart sealing it. 

“You first.” Hermione found herself saying. The messy haired boy shot her an amused look, but grabbed his letter regardless. 

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re scared of something, Miss Granger.” He joked. 

“Oh please.” The excuse was quick from her tongue, but some part of her brain seemed to agree. “Stop stalling, Mister Potter.” Her eyebrow rose in challenge as she crossed her arms over her chest. 

“Alright, alright.” He relented. With a dramatic flick of his wrist, the envelope landed face up. Across the front in what Hermione recognized as Harry’s cramped scrawl, the name Draco Malfoy, stared back at them both. Hermione tried her best to keep a straight face as she looked back up at her friend. His eyes were bulging, making him look a bit like a Mooncalf, and a flush had spread across his cheeks.“Oh, for Godric’s sake.” He groaned, and Hermione found it impossible to hold back her giggles any longer. The sound of his head falling against the table had her laughing even harder. 

“Maybe, I was wrong?” She got out between giggles. It wasn’t as if she had missed the abundance of attention Harry had always seemed to direct toward the Slytherin boy. Not that Malfoy hadn’t returned it tenfold. With that thought in mind, she moved her eyes back up front to catch a glimpse of said Slytherin. His back was ramrod straight, but Hermione could tell even from her position that his typically glacial colored cheeks had turned the same color as the wax on Harry’s envelope. Once she’d gotten her laughter in check she rubbed her friend’s back to try and soothe him. Finally, he managed to sit back up, shooting her a very put out look. “At least we know the spell works for some people.” She couldn’t resist saying, biting her lip on a smile.

“Oh, think that’s so funny do you? I wonder what we’ll find here then.” Before she realized what was happening, Harry had her letter in his hands. Bloody seeker reflexes, she cursed under her breath. 

“Harry, wait. This is all nonsense.” She started, trying to reach for the letter in his hands.

“If it’s nonsense, what’s the harm in reading it then?” Harry said as he held the letter above his head. She was taller than him, but his arms were slightly longer while they were seated. The sound of her chair screeching if she stood would draw the attention of the Slytherins in front of them. If Harry’s envelope was any indication, she was fairly certain she knew what name was likely written on hers. 

“Harry James Potter, give me that…” She batted at his hand hard, her fingertips brushing the parchment for a bare moment before it went flying. All either of them could do was watch in abject horror as the letter bounced off the back of Blaise Zabini’s head and landed on the floor behind him face up. 

All color seemed to fade from her face as she managed to make out her neat cursive on the envelope. The curl of the uppercase B and Z were unmistakable. There was absolutely zero chance that the envelope didn’t have Blaise Zabini’s name on it, and Hermione had the distinct urge to walk into the Blake Lake and let the Grindylows take her away. 

The boy’s dark skin shone like copper in the sunlight as he turned to face her. Good Godric, had he always been that attractive? Okay, fine. Of course he had been. It was one of the things she despised about him. The Slytherin boy had barely said five words to her until this year. He had always been unusually quiet, but it was clear by his presence in virtually all of her N.E.W.T. level classes that he was also clever. She’d listened to Lavender and Parvati gush over the mysterious boy for years, and some part of her brain had clearly agreed.

To be fair, her fixation on him had only picked up in the last year. Any silly fantasies or feelings she might have had for Ron she’d shed over the summer. He’d never seen her as much more than a tool or one of his mates, and had been only too happy to flaunt Lavender in front of her the year prior. She decided she was much too old to go around pining after an air-headed boy who wouldn’t see her if she were the bloody astronomy tower. 

It wasn’t as if she’d chosen Blaise right away either; he’d just fallen into her lap, so to speak. He’d stolen her favorite table in Arithmancy the first day of the class, much as he had today. She supposed she should have let it go, and really, she did try, but then he’d done it again in Potions, Ancient Runes, and even her station in Herbology. They’d been in classes together for seven years. Everyone knew exactly where Hermione liked to sit, and yet he seemed hell bent on sitting in each and every one. 

It had been the last straw when he’d taken her favourite table in the library. When she’d confronted him about it, he merely shrugged and told her that he’d be ‘happy for her to have the table when he was finished’, in that stupid accent of his. She knew he lived in Italy during the hols, and Merlin did she have a soft spot for accents. Hermione told herself her cheeks were flushed with anger, but the flutter in her abdomen tended to disagree. 

Over winter hols she’d told herself to forget all about Blaise Zabini, his flawless chestnut skin, eyes so brown they were almost black, cocky smirk, and that Godric forsaken accent. It had nearly worked too. Well, nearly was a bit of an overstatement. 

Their first class back he’d miraculously decided to sit in the table behind his usual one, the one she’d had to take since he had occupied hers. She shot him a confused glance and opened her mouth to question his bizarre change of seating, but found her words stolen from her. Blaise had given her a genuine grin before looking back at the text in front of him. It had taken weeks for her to stop trying to decode what the sly git could be up to, but quickly let it go when her thoughts began to sound like Harry talking about Draco. Clearly, the comparison hadn’t been too far off. 

Hermione debated ducking under her table to try and snatch the letter before the boy could see it. Any plans she may have concocted were prematurely halted when Blaise whipped around to figure out what projectile had collided with the back of his head. She held her breath as he looked down at the floor. His long fingers wrapped around the parchment and he pulled it up for a closer look. 

“Blaise, what’s..?” Draco started before his eyes locked on the envelope in his mate’s hand. He hummed quietly, one eyebrow raised. 

Hermione’s eyes snapped to the other Slytherin waiting for some reaction. She could deal with being laughed at; she’d done it enough times in her eighteen years. However, his face remained impassive, as if he were reading the Daily Prophet, and not some product of a true love spell with his name embossed on it. His eyes glittered as they finally flicked up to meet hers. What he saw she couldn’t begin to fathom. Her mouth was parted in a held breath, golden cheeks, with a slight red tint to them. 

“I think you dropped this.” Blaise gave her one of those genuine smiles again, holding the letter out for her. She moved on autopilot as she took it from his hand. The lightly calloused skin of his fingers, slid against hers in a flash of warmth. Without another word he turned around. Sharing a short glance with Draco, the two boys hiked their bags on their shoulders and turned to leave the room. 

He paused beside her, tapping an envelope that looked much like hers against his leg. Narrowing his eyes slightly, he smirked and gently set it on the table directly in front of her. With a quick wink he strode past her desk, Draco waiting impatiently at the door for him. 

“I am so sor…” Harry started once the Slytherin boys had passed through the doors at the back of the classroom. 

“Save it, Potter.” She growled before glancing down at the letter. Blaise had left it face down, and her heart pounded like a herd of centaurs in her ears. Minutes passed as she continued focusing on the back of the envelope arguing with herself as to what to do with the mystery missive. For a moment she wished she had superpowers like in the Muggle comic books her Dad loved. 

“Are you going to turn it over?” Her messy haired best friend finally piped up beside her.  
  
“Um…” Tucking her bottom lip between her teeth she thought some more. “Do you think I should?” 

“I mean. I could…” He started

“You have done more than enough today Harry, ta ever so.” Hermione snapped 

“Right. Sorry.” Tapping one of his fingers on the table he looked over at her. 

“This is ridiculous.” She finally huffed. “It’s just some silly note, and for all we know it’s not even for me and he’s just being a bloody Slytherin about it all to get me worked up.” 

“Uh-huh…” Harry said beside her, sounding utterly unconvinced. 

Shooting him a scathing look she reached toward the letter, grasping the edge with shaking fingers. Closing her eyes, she flipped the envelope over. An amused snort sounded from the green eyed boy next to her. What in Godric’s name did that mean? She stiffened her shoulders, and peeked one eye open. Her breath was stolen from her lungs. There, written in perfect penmanship, was Hermione Granger. Biting her lip, she turned to Harry for some kind of reaction, advice, Merlin anything that would tell her what in the fuck she was meant to do, think, or feel in that situation. Which in hindsight was probably poor planning on her part. 

“Well, that’s fortunate.” He chuckled. “What are you waiting for? Open it.” 

She slid one finger under the side of the envelope, the wax seal breaking with a crackle. The slip of paper inside slid out easily. Biting her lip she read the short letter written in a decidedly valentine themed scarlet ink. 

**If you’d care to know exactly what I think and feel, Granger, you'll just have to summon up that Gryffindor courage and ask me yourself."**

**Warmest Regards,**

**Blaise L. Zabini**

Hermione sat gobsmacked at the dismissive note. How dare he use a bloody love spell to write a trademark Slytherin riddle! Wasn’t this letter meant to convey someone’s true feelings for your so-called match? If that was true how in Merlin’s name was he able to manipulate his note in such a way? 

From her right she heard her best friend chuckle lightly, trying and failing to cover it with a cough. The sound turned her shock into pure fury. It wasn’t as if Blaise could have known with certainty what the content of his missive was, but that was entirely irrelevant at the present time. No, the real issue here was that he’d had the nerve to merely toss it behind for her to deal with. Despite the fact that he knew damn good and well that she’d be at minimum startled to see her own name on his envelope. She was positively fuming at fucking Slytherin boys and the nuisance they made of themselves.

“I’m going to kill that smug slimy little snake with my bare hands.” Hermione forced through gritted teeth. He wanted Gryffindor courage did he? Clenching her fists beneath the table she laughed maliciously. Standing quickly, she packed her things away with the flick of her wand, a deathgrip on both envelopes in her hand. 

“Hermione, maybe you should cool down a bit.” Harry rushed to stand running his hand through his already unkempt hair. 

“I’ll see you at dinner, Harry,” was all she said as she made her way out of the classroom, just managing to restrain herself from slamming the door behind her. 

There was no conscious choice as to where her feet were leading her, so simply gave into what appeared to be their sense of direction. It was with only a flash of surprise that she found herself walking into the library. Madam Pince gave her an appraising look but remained silent as she carved a hasty path through the stacks. 

Her mouth set into a hard line as she approached her favourite table. There sat the maddening boy, his face downturned. After studying him over literal months, she knew he was aware of her presence when the left side of his full lips quirked minutely. Someone unfamiliar with him wouldn’t have noticed the full rose pink lips movement, then again they also wouldn’t have noticed the way his broad shoulders widened either. Tragically, Hermione did. She’d unwittingly memorized each micro expression as if she would be quizzed on it. 

Taking a steadying breath she halted to his direct left, markedly closer than she’d need be. It was the nearest she’d been to him excluding the short-lived interaction in class. The heat of his body was comforting, the scent of cypress and spearmint, however, had her a bit weak at the knees. She’d always been bewitched by certain smells, and Blaise Zabini seemed to know precisely what they were. 

Biting her tongue, she tapped her toe impatiently, arms laced through one another, careful not to crush the letters in her grasp. The Slytherin boy did nothing to acknowledge her but smirk down at the book he’d been reading when she tore through the library to her current location. Narrowing her eyes at the side of his face in her view, Hermione cleared her throat. Still, not the barest of recognition was apparent. Huffing, she stepped a bit closer until there was only an inch between her chest and his shoulder. That drew the most significant reaction thus far. His chest stilled, breath seemingly nonexistent. Out of the corner of her eye she caught the microscopic twitch of his right hand. 

“Honestly. I know you know I’m here, Zabini.” She growled when her patience inevitably ran out. 

“I was aware of your arrival, yes.” The boy said cooly, his line of sight still fixed on the tome. 

“It’s rather rude to ignore someone standing right next to you. I’d have thought all your Pure-blood etiquette would have taught you that.” Hermione bit out. His baritone chuckle had her shivering involuntarily, his dark eyes finally turned to her. Good Godric, why in the actual fuck did this boy have to be so maddeningly handsome. 

“Ma certo, cara mia. Since I was old enough to walk.” He smiled, it had more of a teasing lilt to it then the one he’d given her in class.

“Then why did you ignore me you…” She tried to think of the appropriate insult for the Italian boy. “...you, ugh.” Hermione stamped her foot like a toddler throwing a tanty when she couldn’t come up with a thing. The Slytherin smirked in response, raising one eyebrow in amusement.

“As you were the one to approach me, the duty of initiating a conversation would lie with you, not I, Cara mia.” Blaise cocked his head to one side, smirk fixed in place. 

“That’s just…” She clenched her jaw annoyed by both his sound argument and use of Italian. How in the name of Merlin was she supposed to stay perturbed with the man when she longed to perch on the table and listen to the way his tongue curled around the romance language for all it was worth? Shaking her head slightly, she reminded herself of why she was there. “You know precisely why I’m here.” Hermione slammed the envelopes on the table and could just barely hear the vicious shushing Madam Pince threw their way. 

“I’m afraid I don’t. As you could tell, I never opened either letter and, as such, was unaware of their contents.” The Slytherin’s eyes went wide, trying his utmost to portray innocence. “I’d be happy to discuss them with you if that’s your wish?” He motioned to the chair across from him in a sweeping gesture. 

“I…” The offer seemed fair. Regardless of what she might have told herself earlier she came here to do more than give a mere scolding. She wanted answers that the letter made very clear only Blaise would be able to give. “I haven’t actually read mine, well, I suppose, yours. The one with your name on it that I transfigured, that is to say."

“I understand.” The genuine smile was in place as his voice dropped to a soothing octave. Instead of speaking, Hermione nodded. “Would you like me to open it now? I assumed you are more concerned with the contents of the one with your name written on it, as it’s open, but I’m willing to do whatever you’re most comfortable with.” 

Hermione bit her lip as she thought. On one hand, having him read her letter would make it clear why she’d come rushing in like a stampeding erumpent. On the other, if he read the one intended for him it could ensure she didn’t say anything that would indicate she had more of an infatuation than he had for her. 

“The open one.” She said softly, refusing to look at him until he’d read the missive. The low chuckle he gave had her head whipping up to him. “Think that’s funny do you?” Her tone was scathing. 

“No. Well, yes.” He held out his hand to ask her to wait for him to continue. “It’s not because I think your frustration amusing, more that even magic would prefer to force me to have this conversation with you face to face.” 

“Oh.” The word was meek as she became a bit embarrassed. It had never occurred to her that he might have felt as apprehensive about his crush being exposed as she had. And yet he’d been the one to have the courage to give her the letter anyway, not knowing what it may have contained. “Well, you should probably open the other then.” 

The Gryffindor girl held her breath as he opened the envelope and slid the parchment from it. His topaz eyes scanned the page. The grin on his face was wide when he looked at her again. 

“Would you like to read it, Cara mia?” He asked, offering it to her. Vigorously shaking her head, she moved her gaze up to his face to be sure she couldn’t read it by accident. Trapping his tongue between his teeth for a moment he smirked. “Fair enough. Well, it’s clear there’s an attraction here. What would you have us do about it?” 

“What do you want to do about it?” Hermione spoke quickly, trying to deflect the question as rapidly as possible. Blaise grinned and shook his head. 

“I asked you first, Cara mia.” 

“Could you just not do that?” The words left her in a huff. 

“Do what exactly?” The Slytherin had a befuddled expression for a moment. 

“The Italian. It’s…” Her brain scrambled to find the least mortifying explanation, biting her lip again. “It’s distracting.” Blaise was silent for a beat. She was almost positive his eyes were focused on her lips. The thought combined with her confession had her flushing. 

“My apologies. I shall attempt to refrain from any further…” The pause had her heart fluttering. “...distractions.” 

“Thanks.” She said with bated breath. 

“In the interest of expediency and clarity, I suppose I’ll offer up a possible course of action.” 

“I’m listening.” Hermione responded. 

“I propose we spend the afternoon studying together, and if you don’t find my company entirely unpalatable we could discuss the prospect of visiting Hogsmeade with one another tomorrow.” The tone of his voice was devoid of any tremor, but the slight downturn of his mouth gave away the anxiety he must have been experiencing. 

“That seems reasonable.” She nodded her head, biting her lip as she felt her face heating once again. Across the table he made what she could only describe as a groan of frustration. 

“If I’m not allowed to speak Italian I’m going to have to request you refrain from biting your lip, Cara mia.” Blaise said with an almost pained look on his face. Her teeth increased their pressure for a moment before she let it slip free. 

“Does it bother you, Blaise?” She asked, breathless at both his Italian, and how the use of his first name on the tip of her tongue felt almost obscene. Her teeth dug into her lip again, drawing forth another of his groans.

“You have no clue, Cara mia.” The Slytherin shook his head, a seductive smile on his lips. She released her lip as slowly as possible and let her tongue peek out to wet both her lips. Focusing on his mouth she watched him mirror the action.

“Then, why don’t you stop me?” Hermione asked, leaning forward. Blaise shook his head in disbelief before standing gracefully, stalking toward her. 

“As you wish, Cara mia.” The Italian endearment ghosted across her lips before one of his hands skimmed over the golden skin of her jaw. His other gripped her brunette curls, slanting her head as he moved closer. Hermione’s eyes closed as she let the handsome Slytherin press his lips against hers. Perhaps Valentine’s Day wasn’t such a silly affair after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading this! It's my first time writing this pairing, but it was a lot of fun. I'd love to hear what you thought, and Happy Valentine's Day <3
> 
> \- Padfoot🐾


End file.
